I was a good farmer
by mtfrosty
Summary: His master didn't offer any answer.  He only turned to look at him once again, those sad eyes a window to a soul that most people didn't know existed... short One-shot.


This is based off a song I listened to for the first time today. It's a rather good one called "Have you ever" by Shawn McDonald. Anyways, this is what I thought of after hearing it...

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_Have you ever wanted to be someone else  
Have you ever wanted just to be someone  
Have you ever wanted to reach your dreams  
Have you ever wanted life to be more than it seems…_

They sat on the top of a hill. It wasn't one of those lush, green, grass-covered hills like the ones a person would find on Naboo. It wasn't soft to the touch with a gentle slope on all sides, with those wheat-like grasses that wave gently in the breeze. In fact, had it been any smaller, or any more rugged in appearance, it would have been called a mound instead of a hill.

It was dirty in appearance. And not just due to the fact that it was made purely of dirt, dust, and grime. There were small pieces of metal shrapnel strewn all over it. Some were lying softly on the surface, some were stuck in the ground, but most… most were embedded in the armor of the clones that were lying motionless where they had fallen. There were rusty splotches near the bodies. There was a sticky wetness to those that had yet to dry.

The younger of the two men had just lowered himself down to sit next to his mentor. When he had first spotted him, the older man had been standing quietly, solemnly observing the wreckage that was spread all over the valley in front of the hill. As he watched, his teacher had lifted a hand to his face for a moment before lowering it once more. Though he couldn't see his face, the young man knew that there was a rare spread of emotions distorting the normally stoic features. As his mentor finally gave in and lowered himself down, the youth silently climbed the hill and sat next to him.

They said nothing at first, each trying to find someplace happy they could send their minds to, someplace where it all would just go away. Finally, the older of the two sighed and lowered his gaze. "Sometimes I wonder if this is all going to be worth it in the end," he muttered. It wasn't meant to be a conversation starter, just as a comment to be considered.

The youth looked over, puzzled. "Worth what? We're Jedi. This is what we're trained for, right? To rid the galaxy of war and bring peace?"

The master raised a hand to scratch at his beard. "There is a certain point where one discovers that peace is merely a figment of the imagination. It will never be attained and it will never sprout into existence. What we're fighting for, padawan… well… it's not peace." There was a long pause, then. Nothing moved and no sounds were heard. They simply stared out over the blood-soaked plain, the colorless skies, and the dead environment surrounding them.

Finally, the boy took a shaky breath and dared to ask what he knew his teacher didn't want him to ask. "Then what are we fighting for, master?"

His mentor finally looked over at him, fixing him in the gaze of two dull, gray eyes that used to have a spark of something in them. There was no spark anymore. Not after today. "When I find out, I'll let you know."

Silence again.

"Master?"

"Hm?"

There were two empty eyes staring at him, and the boy quickly looked up from what he had been staring at. He took another trembling breath, trying to rid his mind of the image of the dead man. "Do you ever wish you weren't a Jedi?"

The elder Jedi blinked. But then a sad smile made its way onto his face. "Promise not to tell the little green troll?"

There was a brief flutter of a smile on the boy's face. "Yes."

The smiles disappeared. "Good."

There was a pause before the boy asked again. "So?"

"Every day. Every day ever since this blasted war started I wish I had been born in a place where the Jedi could never find me."

He couldn't believe it. His master, the Order's model Jedi, had just said that he wished he wasn't one? It made no sense and his brows scrunched up a little. "But why? You always seem like you love being a Jedi."

The master seemed to forget for the moment that he was talking to a boy that had barely turned fourteen; in a gesture of frustration he spread on arm out to encompass the entire valley. Wrecked starfighters were still smoking, hundreds of bodies were intermingled with mangled droids, and the metallic scent of blaster fire still lingered in the air. "What is there to love?" he asked, his tone growing short, accent sharper and more pronounced.

"I don't – " the padawan started, but he flinched when he was cut off.

"You don't what?" the older man asked. "Do you not understand? Do you not believe me? I am only human, padawan. I may act like nothing affects me, but on the inside it hurts. It hurts way more than it should."

The boy was silent, wide eyes staring at the one man he considered a father. He had never witnessed such an outburst from him before, and it scared him. Against his better judgment, though, he whispered a response. "Then leave."

A bitter laugh followed. "You make it sound so easy."

The boy grew a little bolder and lifted his chin. "Maybe it is."

"I can't leave," the master said with a shake of his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

His master leaned back until he was lying down, apparently not caring whether he was lying on one of those rusty spots or not. "Because," was the answer. "Because someone has to do it, and I can't possibly wish this on anyone else." Silence threatened again until the older man chuckled a little and closed his eyes. "I don't know why I was so determined to leave the AgriCorps. I was a good farmer."

"Master, you don't mean that!" the boy stated.

His master didn't offer any answer. He only turned to look at him once again, those sad eyes a window to a soul that most people didn't know existed. His master's charming personality and constant humor portrayed a deceiving picture of a content and happy life. It was anything but.

The boy eventually looked away and swallowed. He stood up and took one last look around before turning to head back to where he had come from. "I'm going to go patch up my starfighter," he said, lamely excusing himself.

A soft sigh was all he heard in response.

It was merely the first time that Anakin would glimpse the swirling, white-water rush of uncertainty that was hiding behind the calm, steadfast Force-presence that was Obi-wan Kenobi. And in the coming years, he would eventually agree with what his master had told him all of those years ago.

He wondered if all of the fighting was really worth it…

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_Have you ever wanted to reach up and touch the sky  
Have you ever wanted to pack it up and say good-bye_

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Please Review!

You can listen to the song on Youtube. :)


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